Welcome Home
by AllHailAugustus
Summary: Poppin' Eric's Cherry Contest Honorable Mention. Eric stays in Italy with Appius for the summer, whether he wants to or not. AH. Rated M for disturbing, mature subject matter.


"**Poppin' Eric's Cherry" One-Shot Contest**

**Title: Welcome Home**

**Pen name: AllHailAugustus**

**Status (Virgin or Almost-Virgin): Virgin!**

**Primary Players: Eric, Appius, and Pam**

**Beta'd by: Team Jane and pixiegiggles**

Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all these characters, I'm just walkin' them through the fun house.

**To see other entries in the "Poppin' Eric's Cherry" contest, please visit the C2:**

http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/Poppin_Erics_Cherry_One-Shot_Contest/75492/

Appius was standing at the deep end of the pool, waiting for me when I surfaced. "Are you about ready to get out, my young dolphin?" he chuckled, looking down at me treading water. I grinned at him. Appius knew how much I loved swimming. I was All State back in Louisiana for freestyle and butterfly. I had made use of his pool every day since we arrived in Italy a week ago. "I asked the servants to set dinner out here for us, so there's no need to change. It's ready when you are."

I hauled myself out of pool and adjusted my Speedos and goggles. I pick up a fluffy, white towel from the rack by the pool, wrapping it around my waist. Appius settled a second on my shoulders, before he moved a hand down my back, guiding me to our outdoor dining table. I was probably walking slower than he would have liked as I admired his home. Even though my family was no means poor—my mother had left my father and me with her substantial inheritance after her death and my father's own political career was proving quite successful—it was nothing on the scale of Appius's wealth. I was still ogling his palatial villa and his crew of servants like a gawking tourist.

When Appius had invited me to stay the summer with him after my high school graduation, I had no idea I was being invited into the home of one of Rome's oldest and richest families. I only knew Appius by his reputation as a sculptor. He was a resident at the private art school that I attended in New Orleans on a fellowship the school funded to bring in distinguished artists. After touring the student galleries, Appius took a special interest in my work and offered to mentor me. I practically puffed with pride to be so singled out. I rubbed it in my friends' faces every chance I got. For all of my senior year, Appius let me work in his private studio with him. He critiqued my sculptures, showing me new techniques to get cleaner lines. We joked and talked while we worked. He told me about all the places he'd been, the museums his work had been shown in, and his love of boxing when he was my age. In turn, I told him what was happening in the school, about my dad's campaign for Congress, and about my new step-mom. He became like an older brother to me—an older brother who was also able to write letters of recommendation for my college applications. I couldn't wait to spend the summer with him in Italy.

Appius sat down at next to me at the table and poured me a glass of red wine. My stomach rumbled and I grabbed the bowl of pasta in front of me. Even for a casual dinner on the terrace, Appius's chefs put out a full spread—pasta, cheeses, bread, caprese salad, roasted lamb, peach tart with fresh cream—all the delicious scents wafted up and around the table.

"So, what would you like to do for your birthday tomorrow, little Eric?" Appius asked me over the rim of his wine glass.

I chewed a piece of bread slowly, pretending like I was carefully considering my options. I already had a good idea what I wanted for my eighteenth birthday. I wanted to get laid. "Maybe we could go to one of the clubs in the city," I said shrugging. "I'm a very good dancer."

"I'm sure you are," Appius snickered and raised his eyebrows. "Want to show off for the girls do you?"

I laughed. I had told Appius all about my curse the morning after an unscheduled fire drill caused a crew of very dedicated firemen to interrupt a particularly promising make out session in my room at the residence hall. Basically, no matter who I was with or how many locked doors I was behind, a cockblocker would find me. At this point, I had done almost everything except actually have sex. It wasn't for a lack of interest or opportunities—I practically had my own fan club and if the female viewership at swim meets was any indication, I knew I could rock a Speedo. Yet, it was like the universe was conspiring to keep Eric Northman out of the Promised Land (thanks a fucking lot universe!), and frankly, I was too pretty to still be a virgin at eighteen. "I think I can make it a worthwhile venture," I answered him.

Appius snorted and shook his head. As we continued eating, he told me about the different clubs in Rome and which ones he would recommend. He kept my wine glass full as we made our plans for the next day and toward the end of the meal I felt a warmth settle in my limbs, and nestle in the pit of my stomach. My eyelids became heavy and I fell asleep without ever getting up from the table.

*****

I suddenly became aware of a wetness circling the shell of my ear and a light touch tracing the muscles of my stomach, the V of my hips, down to my –

I jerked.

"Ah, is my boy finally rising again?" The voice from beside me chuckled.

I opened my eyes and looked down my body to the rough textured fingers that were feathering across the underside of my dick, coaxing it to stand like a snake charmer. My legs spread to give myself more room. My gaze followed the hand that was caressing me up the arm it was attached to towards a darkly handsome face. My thoughts were coming to me thick and slow like swamp mud from a bottle. I stared for a long moment before I finally recognized the person beside me.

"Appius? " my voice sounded like an echo from a cave. My mind was dragging, lost and confused. It felt like a dream, but why would I be dreaming of Appius?

A wide, white smile broke across his olive skin. He kissed me hard then, teeth smashing into lips. Moving over me, he began stroking my length in earnest and added a second hand to fondle and squeeze my testicles in time with his other. His mouth pulled back and his hot breath brushed across my face.

"Relax, little Eric. I'll take care of you," he promised in a husky whisper.

His lips came crashing back to mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth, demanding my attention as it thrust to the rhythm he kept below. The pressure and warmth of his hand eased off my balls only to reassert itself with a finger pushing into me. I briefly realized that my back entrance was already sore and pushed my lagging brain to remember why, to come up with a reason, but there was nothing. Then his intruding digit began rubbing a spot within me and what little coherent thought I had scattered. My eyelids snapped shut and I moaned.

Appius nipped my chin. "Open your eyes, boy. See how much pleasure I can give you. Watch how hard I make you cum," he commanded.

I raised my head up to watch Appius circle my hardened nipple with his soft pink tongue. His flat brown eyes were dilated and locked on mine, trapping me in a gaze that was predatory and devouring. When he bit my erect nipple, my eyes rolled back in my head and I came harder than I ever had before. The building tension inside me had crested and broken into a wave of ecstasy that rolled through me from crown to toe. It felt like my whole body, everything that I had to give, was focused into a pulsing stream that emptied out of me to form a warm pool on my stomach. I laid on the bed, panting and spent.

I was still drifting in a euphoric haze when Appius turned me over and pulled my hips up. He pushed my knees apart with his own and I only realized what he was going to do a split second before he drove into me from behind.

Digging his fingers into my hips, he pulled me back to meet his thrusts. There was pain at first while my body adjusted to him but as he moved in and out the feeling morphed into pleasure. I scrabbled, grabbing at the sheets, the mattress, anything my hands could find as I tried to hold on. My mind told me that I shouldn't be touched this way, that I shouldn't let someone do this to me, that it shouldn't feel so good. But my body wouldn't listen. It pushed back into his thrusts, driving him in deeper and harder. Appius wound his fingers into my long hair and yanked me back toward him. He clamped his teeth down on my shoulder hard enough to break the skin and even though I didn't think it was possible, I came again with a scream as he swelled and released inside of me. His hot seed filled me before he pulled out and dropped me to the bed.

Appius rested beside me, rubbing a hand up and down my back. There was an undercurrent in my brain that told me I needed to get away, ask questions, be outraged, just DO SOMETHING, but my satiated muscles were too sluggish to respond. I tried to gather my thoughts, to prod myself into alertness but every part of me felt heavy. My eyes closed and I sunk back into sleep.

******

I don't know how long he kept me in that drug induced haze, but the pattern was always the same. He would wake me for several rounds of sex and afterward he would caress me until I fell asleep again. There were times in between when he would feed me. He popped grapes into my mouth, pressed pinches of bread and crumbles of cheese to my lips, and held the back of my head as he tipped wine over my tongue. My only nourishment was what he chose to give me from his own hands. The rest of my time was spent sprawled on the bed, waiting for Appius to return, waiting to wake up.

Then one day, I did.

I sat up in the bed and rubbed my eyes. The fog had finally rolled away from my brain and my thoughts felt sharp and clear. The memories of Appius and me were already sliding away from my mind like a bad dream ready to be burned away in the sunlight. But this wasn't the room I had been staying in when I first arrived. This was the room from my dreams with Appius. The walls were painted a deep red with gold borders, unbroken except for the doorway to the bathroom and the only door out—no windows. The colors were picked up with added stripes of pale blue and royal purple on the plush upholstery of the furniture. There was only a bed, sofa, and table with two chairs—all ornately carved with dark wooden legs. No TV, no books, no stereo, no phone. Nothing to do but wait for Appius. Then the realization crashed into me and I reeled from the impact: it was all real.

My hand moved over my skin, feeling the sticky layers of our dried cum. I felt disgusting. I was disgusting. I kicked at the soiled sheets around me, hating this bed and all the things that had been done in it. I hadn't bathed since before Appius first took me, and at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to get clean. I got up and padded into the bathroom.

I paused in the bathroom door to admire the space. It really was a breathtaking room. Mosaic tile, laid in waves of blues and greens across the floor, created the impression of stepping into a rippling ocean. The sink, shower, and bathtub were all a glowing white marble, slick and cool, with gold fixtures. The bath was set into the floor and looked more like a small swimming pool. The shower was open to the room with just a raised lip instead of a glass wall or a shower curtain. The walls of the shower were studded with jets and looked big enough to host a dance party. My skin itched with the need to step into that shower and scour my body raw, but I had to relieve myself first. I used the toilet, but when I pushed the lever down, it didn't flush. I tried again but still nothing. That was the reason I hadn't washed off: no water. It was only on when Appius was here, and he hadn't let me do anything beyond brushing my teeth and flushing the toilet.

I went ahead and checked the shower and bath anyway, but once again no water. Moving to the sink, I was brought up short by my reflection in the vanity mirror. My upper chest, neck, and shoulders were splotched with hickies and bite marks and I had multiple sets of bruised finger prints spotting my hips. I turned a little to see the same discolored collage trail down my back. The patterns of tight little circles and round open clouds looked like some kind of bizarre multicolored leopard print against my pale flesh. I watched myself in the mirror as I ran a finger gingerly over angry red tooth marks imprinted just below my collarbone. Appius had marked me as his personal chew toy.

Once I left the bathroom, there was really nothing to do. I checked the room's only door—the one that led somewhere other than here—but it was locked. I slammed my shoulder into it, which only made me sore while the door didn't give in the slightest. I thought about taking the sheet off the bed and fashioning a toga to cover myself, but quickly dismissed it. I had never had qualms about being naked. I loved skinny dipping and normally slept in the nude. It only bothered me now because Appius had taken away the choice. I'd rather face him naked and proud, so he wouldn't think he'd succeeded in making me uncomfortable. Plus, wearing a sheet would just look ridiculous. Finally, I settled down into a routine of alternating between pacing the room and sitting on the bed, just waiting for Appius to return.

I must have fallen asleep again, because when I woke up Appius was standing at the foot of the bed, leaning down to lightly caress the arch of my foot. My leg jerked and I scooted away from him and jumped off the bed. Confronting Appius while draped in those silk sheets would send all the wrong signals and I really didn't want to encourage him. Instead, I walked around the bed to stand, shoulders squared, in front of him putting some distance between us. A smirk played on his lips and his eyes sparked with amusement as he watched me. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.

"Is there something you wanted to tell me, little Eric?"

I clenched my jaw and met his eyes. "You can't keep me here, Appius. You need to let me go."

"Oh, but I can keep you here and I will, until I feel like letting you go." He shook his head and sighed. "But I was hoping you would want to stay."

I felt my stomach lurch at his words. The thought of being kept here indefinitely was not a life I wanted to contemplate. "I'm not into men, Appius, and I have no desire to stay."

His smirk shifted into a devilish grin as he came closer. "You might not be into men, but a man has certainly been into you—multiple times in fact. And from all your exclamations and moans of pleasure, I would say you received immense satisfaction from the activity."

I looked away, my cheeks burning, and a hot anger began roiling up inside of me. Then I did something very stupid—I took a swing at the former boxer.

Appius dodged my punch, grabbed my wrist, and wrenched my arm up hard behind my back all in one fluid motion. He put pressure on my arm and shoved me into the nearest wall so that my chest and cheek were pressed flat against it, and he was tight against my back. I tried to struggle but he just pulled my wrist higher up behind me. I froze, hissing at the stab of pain lancing deep through my shoulder. Even without his martial skills, I would have had a hard time fighting him. Though at the time we were about the same height, I was still growing and hadn't filled out yet. My build was boyish and lean while he had the heavy muscles and broad chest of a trained pugilist. Appius had at least forty pounds on me and he put them to good use.

Once Appius had me subdued he brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. "I don't mind doing things rough, my blushing boy, but we'll play later. Right now, we need to come to an understanding."

Appius let go and I gasped in relief as my arm moved back to a more natural position.

"Come," he said. "I have something to show you."

He crossed the room to the table on the far side and began spreading out some photos. I approached and when I looked at the big, glossy black and whites, my mind froze. I stared at one of them, circling a pale figure with my finger. Then it clicked. It was me. It was my face in profile, mouth gasping and open, as my head hung off the bed, long hair draping to the floor. My hands were clutching Appius's head as he hovered above me, sucking on my nipple, and he had a hand between us, rubbing our dicks together. The pictures spread over the table had us in different positions, engaged in an array of activities on various pieces of furniture, but they were all of Appius and me, our faces beacons of ecstasy and desire.

While I looked, Appius was dragging his fingers through my hair and gently down my back, petting me like a small child. "You are mine until I let you go," he told me softly. "I can keep you as I have been," he waved a hand at the table, "drugged and pliant, but I would prefer for you to be wholly engaged in our activities." With two fingers he turned my head to look at him and brought his other hand up to hold the back of my neck. "You are a natural talent, Eric, beautiful and erotic. There is so much I could teach you, so much pleasure I could give you if you would only be willing to accept it." He stroked my cheek with his thumb and watched me, his dark eyes hazy with a desire I knew I didn't share. I looked away from him and he let his hands slide down to rest on my shoulders.

"Of course, if you continue to be resistant, I may have to send some of the mementos of our time back to Louisiana ahead of you. Perhaps to the Len Austerman campaign or a few of the media stations," he said casually, browsing over the pictures on the table.

The muscles in my abdomen clenched like I had been punched in the gut. Len Austerman was the opposing candidate in my father's senatorial race and the incumbent. Austerman had a few scandals while in office, accusations from his younger female aids, and compared to him, my father looked squeaky clean. If a story got out that my father, the family values candidate who didn't support gay rights, had a son that liked to be fucked by men, I could very well cost him his dream job. In a state like Louisiana, I could see voters accepting a red blooded man who chased young women long before they'd take someone who'd raised a closet homosexual. Not to mention that the story would follow me for the rest of my life. I'd be marked as a fag despite my lack of interest in men.

"I'm sure your father would love to see some of the videos of us together too."

And that was it. He had me. Even if I could accept the idea that I would be the cause of derailing my dad's political career, and was prepared to bear my own ruined reputation, I knew I wouldn't be able to take the look on my father's face once he saw firsthand, and in detail, all the things I had let Appius do to me. His would always question, even through his silent disappointment, why I hadn't fought harder, why it looked like I had enjoyed it, and that was a shame I couldn't take. I met his coffee-colored eyes and he could see he had caught me.

He tugged me to his chest, one arm locked around my waist, the other cradling the back of my head. He leaned in to whisper into my ear, "I'll let you go at the end of the summer, my boy. You can go home and pretend like none of this ever happened. You can laugh and tell your friends that you plowed through every pussy in Italy. It will just be between us. Our little secret."

He pulled back, his light stubble scratching against my smooth cheek, to wait for my decision. More than anything I wanted to wake up in my bed in Louisiana and find this to be nothing more than a bad dream. That's what I'd do. After this was over, I'd go home and wake up from my three-month nightmare. I'd let it fade into the past like it never happened. So I looked away from him, at one of the blank red walls, and nodded my assent.

His lips crushed against mine, hard and demanding, so unlike the soft, sweet questions of all the girls I'd kissed before. Appius broke off and smiled at me victoriously, holding my face in his hands.

"Come," he said. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He led me into the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower to let it warm. He turned back to face me, and I just stood there, waiting for him to leave so I could clean myself in peace. He motioned with his hand for me to come closer. When I stepped in front of him, he slowly looked me over, his eyes moving down my body and then back up again.

"Undress me," he ordered.

I hesitated and then began unbuttoning his white linen shirt, working quickly and impersonally down his chest. Appius grabbed my hands.

"Like a lover, little Eric," he said low and husky, his voice saturated with lust. "Remember, it's just us here." Appius held my gaze while tracing small circles with his thumbs on my palms. Then he let me go.

I progressed more slowly this time, showing off each button slipping through its eyelet. Once the shirt was loose, I slid it from his shoulders and folded it over a nearby settee. Appius had come into the room barefoot, so there weren't any shoes or socks to worry about. All that was left were his pants and from the bulge in the front, I would say he was ready to have them off. I undid the button and pulled down the zipper, freeing his erection. After I drew the pants down his legs, Appius stepped out of them and they joined his shirt. He took my hand and guided me into the shower.

I might have moaned when the shower spray hit me. I don't think I had ever been so thankful for modern indoor plumbing. Closing my eyes, I focused on the sensation of hot water pouring over my skin. I just wanted to stand there alone and let the accumulated grime, all the crap from the past so many days wash away. But of course, I wasn't alone. Appius tugged me back out of the spray and worked shampoo into my hair, massaging my scalp. When he was finished he tilted my head back and combed the shampoo from my hair. I concentrated on the smell of it, cool and fresh. It smelled like the sea and cedar wood.

"Do you like the scent?" he asked close to my ear. "I picked it especially for you, my young Viking."

I kept my eyes closed as he moved on to the soap. He scrubbed me with sure, soothing strokes, his fingers finding their way into each crevice of my skin. He touched every part of my body, working down my arms and chest and up my legs, saving everything in the middle for last. Moving from the tops of my thighs, his hands found my ass and stayed there, kneading the muscles, before gliding over my hips to my front. His fingers followed my happy trail from my stomach down, and I tried to imagine someone—anyone—other than him touching me like this. But I couldn't. My mind was stuck on the fact that the man who had been my mentor, who I had looked up to like a big brother, was now caressing my dick and soaping my balls. When he was finished, he went over me once more, making sure I was well rinsed.

Then, it was apparently my turn. I opened my eyes as Appius pressed a bottle into my hand. He kept his heated gaze on me as I tipped some shampoo into my hand. It was a different scent, heady with spice and the sharp tang of citrus. I washed his short, black hair, the opposite of my own, and moved on to the soap. I tried to mimic Appius's method but I was sure all my touches felt much more clinical. I really had no desire for this man. It felt like I was washing a car—a car with hair and muscles. He watched my every movement, and when I slowed getting toward his middle, he took my hand and directed my movements over his stiff penis. When he was satisfied with my cleaning, he rinsed himself off.

Appius turned back to me and pressed down on my shoulders. "On your knees, my boy."

I didn't budge. Up until this point, I had just been going along with everything, treating our interaction like a job I had to do to get a shower. My touches were impersonal, his were something to bear. But we were crossing a line now, and I couldn't pretend anymore. I swallowed. "Appius, I don't want to do this."

He gave me a gentle, knowing smile. "Ah, but you will." Running his finger through my hair, he slicked it back from my forehead. "I've already had you many times. Stopping now wouldn't change that and it wouldn't stop me from having you again. Denying me would only hurt your family, taint your own life. You aren't that foolish, or that selfish."

Appius stood watching me, giving me time to consider. And in that moment I hated him more than ever before. I hated him for tricking me, for putting me in this position, for making me hate myself, but mostly I hated him for being right. I had already compromised myself, so what was a little further? I wasn't going to let this clusterfuck of a situation spray back on my dad or follow me back to my life in the States. This was the consequence of my piss poor decisions and I was going to have to deal with it.

He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. "Don't worry. I'll tell you what to do."

He pushed on my shoulders again and this time I complied. I kneeled on the tile, the little squares pressing into my knees, the hot water pattering on my back, Appius's cock looming in front of my face.

"Open your mouth, my boy," he commanded.

And I did.

*****

Over time, as I proved myself to Appius, he started to gradually return the "privileges" he had withheld from me. First came clothing. One day, he left an outfit folded on the corner of my bed. I just stared at the stack of fabric at first like it was a foreign object that managed to sneak into my room. I guess I was waiting for it to disappear. Once I realized they were there to stay, I couldn't keep my hands off. I unfolded each piece and examined it—holding it away from me for a better look, bringing it to my nose and inhaling the dye and chemical smell of new clothes, rubbing my fingers over the soft fabric—before finally putting it on. First was a fitted cotton, royal blue V-neck tee. After I slipped it over my head, I kept turning and twisting, feeling the material slide over my muscles. Then came a pair of dark wash denim jeans. No underwear. Appius hardly ever wore any himself, so I wasn't surprised to find that commando would be his preferred state for me as well. Last to put on were socks and a pair of black Chucks.

I spent the rest of the time until Appius came moving around my room, having to re-accustom myself to the feel of clothing on my body. When Appius started striping them off me, I almost whimpered from the loss. I couldn't keep my eyes from darting to where they were crumpled on the floor, until Appius laughed and assured me that another set would be waiting when I woke. And it was true. After that I always had a set of clothes ready for me and the old would be whisked away. They weren't the clothes I brought with me on the trip and they were always new, so I suppose somewhere in Appius's villa I had my very own wardrobe someone was picking from.

It was pathetic how happy I was to get those "privileges" back. I was practically giddy the first time he took me outside and into the sun. I'm surprised I didn't burn a hole in my retinas from trying to look at it. He let me swim in his pool again, let me work in his studio, gave me free range of his house, took me to restaurants, museums, clubs, concerts, and parties. It actually started to feel like a normal vacation. He made it easy to forget the blackmail as he once again became the Appius I had thought of as an older brother—smart, affable, and gregarious. Of course, then there would be the touches, reminders that I was his and he could do whatever he liked with me: a hand would slip up and under my shirt as we looked at the cool marble face of Ludovisi Ares in the National Gallery; he'd stroke me under the table as a waiter took our order at La Pergola; he'd lean in to whisper in my ear at the opera and leave soft kisses upon my neck, hidden to others in our box by my veil of hair. Even though he still had my luggage, papers, and money, I could have found a way home from this foreign land, but after staying for so long, staying through the worst of it, leaving now seemed counterproductive. Like a prisoner trying to break out of jail days before he's supposed to be released. You might as well just wait for the bigger pay off at the end.

*****

There was no pomp and circumstance when Appius finally let me go. I didn't even know where we were going until his driver pulled up at the airport. My eyes went wide and I looked over at Appius.

He laughed. "Are you really so surprised, little Eric, that I would keep my word? Your time is up." Appius got out of the car and after a second of being stunned, I did too.

The driver had lined my bags up on the curb and gotten back in the town car. I hadn't seen my belongings in three months and now, here they were, packed, ready, and perfect, like they had just been waiting for me to decide that I wanted to go back to my normal life.

"I packed a few souvenirs for you to give your friends back home and a some pictures for your own personal pleasure." He looked over my body slowly, drawing in a long breath. "Unless of course, you'd like to stay. It would be a shame to let you go after I've just gotten you properly trained."

The anger that I had shoved down over the past few months—for making me a fool for trusting him, for threatening my family, for holding me prisoner, for treating me like a fucking pet to be played with—suddenly welled up, burning my chest. After forcing me into this situation, he thought _I would want to stay with him_?

I punched him, and this time, my fist connected with his mouth with a satisfying smack.

I had a brief moment of triumph as Appius looked down at the blood he had wiped from his split lip—that is until he looked up and I saw his eyes. They had gone wild and hungry like a predator spotting its next meal. My hit was the equivalent of baiting a pit bull on a chain.

The corners of Appius's mouth twitched up. and in a flash, he pulled me toward him by the back of my neck and kissed me hard. After a few pushes, he let me shove him away, but I could taste his blood in my mouth and on my lips.

He took a step back, putting more distance between us, and adjusted his suit. When he raised his head again, his face was back to its usual gently teasing lines. "I've always enjoyed your feistiness. If you're not careful, I won't be able to let you go at all."

I looked longingly at the glass doors of the airport check-in and watched as other people rolled their luggage inside only a short distance from us. I didn't care what it took. I wasn't staying any longer. "I'm going home, Appius. I don't care what you've got on me. Right now, I'm going home and I never want to hear your name again."

Appius smiled. "Well, my home will always be your home, dear Eric, if you should ever change your mind." He held out my plane ticket. "We wouldn't want you to miss your flight, would we?"

I plucked the paper from his hand, gathered my things, and walked away, ignoring him. The entire distance to the airport entrance, I could feel him watching me leave from his spot at the curb. I carried my bags through those glass doors and I never looked back.

******

Sometime between flying out of Rome and landing in Shreveport, my life picked up where it had left off. I don't know if it was the pretty flight attendant who winked when she handed me my drink, finally finishing the article in GQ I had been reading on my way to Italy, or the hot soft pretzel I bought during my layover in Atlanta, but it was like a switch had flipped and my pre-Appius life clicked back into place. I don't know what I expected—parades, banners, Congratulations on Your Release from Sexual Servitude! (Hallmark made a card for that, right?), people surprised to see me alone in public? It seemed like the world should have changed or that people would be able to look at me and know what I had gone through. But no, my dad met me at the airport and hugged me tight, complete with a fatherly back pat. He took me home to my step mother and we had a family dinner as I told them made up stories of how I imagined my trip to Italy would have gone, if circumstances were a little different. They asked me about Appius and I smiled and lied, knuckles white against the arms of my chair. He was a great host, really Dad.

I handed out the souvenirs I had found in my suitcase but held back the pictures for after my parents went to sleep. The prints weren't the glossy black and white photos I had expected Appius to give as a parting gift. Instead, they were color snapshots of the two of us doing touristy things—posing in front of the Parthenon, eating gelato—that first week before my birthday. He was still just my friend then, but in all of the photos of us together he was always touching me. There would be an arm around my shoulders, a hand on my back, my arm, my hip, keeping me close to him. He was always looking at me. God, how did I not see it? How blind was I not to recognize what was coming? I went into my dad's office that night and ran them through his industrial shredder. After that I told everyone that my camera broke. No pictures.

*****

Over the next week I had to relearn how to live my life. No matter how hard I tried not to think of Appius, my time with him kept ghosting back into my thoughts, showing up in my habits. Taking a shower now felt incomplete and oddly lonely. Appius had never let me bathe alone and it had never just been about getting clean. My bed felt big and empty with only me in it, and I tossed and turned—too jittery with unused energy to fall asleep. Appius had kept me well used during my stay with him, and as much as I hated to admit it, he knew how to work a man's body. I had gone to sleep every night, exhausted from climaxing, balls empty and spent. He had me accustomed to regular, vigorous, and spectacular sex. I spent so much time trying to wear myself out swimming in our pool, I was surprised I didn't grow flippers. Attempting to relieve the problem myself simply wasn't cutting it. After a week of going without, I was horny as hell and for women at least, still technically a virgin.

My best friend Pam decided to throw a welcome back party for me the weekend after my return. That late in August, it also served as a last hurrah for all of us high school grads leaving for our first year of college. I arrived at her house frustrated from sexual need and from spending all week answering questions about my summer vacation in Italy. I was tired of talking about it, sick of putting on my happy face and pretending everything was all right. For this party at least, I decided I wasn't going to do it. When Pam found me, I was moody and sullen and had spent most of the night drinking beer on a lounge chair next to the pool, ignoring everyone.

"What's up your ass, Northman? I throw this party for you and you sit in the corner and pout like a little bitch." Pam sat down in the chair next to me, stretching out her long legs.

On occasion, we had been slightly more than best friends. She had given me my first blow job, and I had returned the favor. She had almost been my real first this past year, but her mom had walked in on us right as I was breaking out the condom, and that's where the fun stopped. Pam's mom, Eleanor, sat at the end of the bed and gave us a nice long lecture on safe sex while Pam and I sat wrapped in her bed sheets. If Eleanor was upset about finding the neighbor boy she had spent years serving juice boxes to in her daughter's bed, she didn't show it. If anything, it seemed like after that she was angry that we hadn't committed to some more solid relationship, but that wasn't something either of us wanted. Pam and I weren't really the dating type, and while she might have been my first, I definitely wouldn't have been hers.

She ran her fingers through her hair and I couldn't help but admire the blond waves that fell over her shoulders. Her white bikini made her tan pop and the cut showed off all her little curves. Pam laughed when she caught me looking. She was fucking gorgeous and she knew it.

"What's the matter, Eric? The way I heard it you banged every vagina in Italy and then started requesting imports. Yet here you are drooling over a domestic product."

I grunted. "I don't want to talk about Italy."

Pam smirked. "Not as big overseas as you thought you'd be?"

I gave her a genuine shit-eating grin. "Now, Pam. You should know I'm plenty big everywhere."

"So you did it then? Finally, had sex and tossed your V-card? Did the Mexican hat dance on it?"

I stared at the water in the pool as a heavy weight pressed down on my chest. Had I had sex? Tons. But not the kind I wanted. Not with whom I wanted. If anyone could understand what had happened to me with Appius it would be Pam. But I couldn't bring myself to talk about it. I was too embarrassed, too ashamed. If no one else knew, maybe it would really be like it never happened. I felt a soft hand on my arm and I turned to look at Pam.

She was leaning toward me, giving me a great view of her cleavage. "You know, I've always wanted to fuck you, Northman. I think now would be a perfect time to break your curse. My mom's not here to walk in on us."

"I don't want a pity fuck, Pam."

"Have you looked around?" Pam waved a flippant hand at the other party guests. "Like I'd want to have sex with any of these vermin." She smirked. "Or at least not again. You're obviously the best candidate around." Appealing to my pride? Oh, yes, Pam knew me well. "Besides, this funk you're in is not amusing. You won't even let me tease you about it." She cocked her head and waited for my answer.

A slow smile spread across my face. That Pam. I knew there was a reason she was my best friend. She was always taking care of me. I got up and held out a hand to pull her from her chair. "Lead the way."

She took me back to her room and as soon the door was closed, I had her pressed between my body and the wall, kissing her with a devouring urgency. Her lips met mine with the same hunger and our tongues intertwined, probing and tasting. I pulled the strings on her swimsuit top and once it was out of the way, my hands started massaging and squeezing her breasts. I loved the feel of them in my hands, heavy and supple. Fuck, I'd missed boobs! Bending down, I put my lips around one of her pink nipples and sucked hard, pinching and twisting the other between my fingers. She arched into me, her hands grabbing the back of my head and pressing me into her harder. I gave her nipple a few quick nips before switching to the other. I remembered that she liked her pleasure rough with a little pain, which was good. What we were doing wasn't about love, it was about need. This would not be tender, this would not be sweet.

I got rid of her bikini bottoms and slipped two fingers into her while rubbing her clit with my thumb. Pam closed her eyes as she approached that edge and I bit down hard on her breast. Her lids popped back open and I looked into her blue eyes when she came, her pussy clenching around my fingers.

While she was still dizzy from her orgasm, I pulled down my trunks and covered my erection with her cum from my hand. I snaked my arms behind to grab her ass and lifted her, before impaling her on my cock. She let out a gasp as I filled her, and I probably did a little gasping of my own. It felt so different, so good, so fucking right. I started moving within her, and after a few strokes, I was pounding her into the wall. I loved the feel of her, warm, tight, and wet. Her hands scrabbled over my shoulders and back, tugging on my hair, digging into my flesh, urging me on. I pushed harder, deeper, faster, so desperate for more. When I felt her nearing her end just as I was approaching mine, I panted into her ear, "Come, sweet Pamela, come with me." I ground my hips into hers as her muscles clamped down around me. After a few more quick thrusts, I exploded, spilling my seed deep within her. Her pussy milked me through my release, pulling out every drop.

I sank to the floor, Pam still naked and on top of me. We laid there coming down from our high, gathering the pieces of ourselves back into our bodies. Pam finally sat up, resting her weight on her forearms, which she propped on my chest. She looked down at me, a satisfied smile on her face probably exactly the same as my own.

"You're lucky I'm on the pill."

I blinked at her. "What?"

She leaned to the side and pointed down at my uncovered dick. "Most gentlemen ask before they ride bareback," she gave my chest a friendly pat and climbed off of me. "The last thing we need is a bunch of little, blond Northmans running around."

Pam found her bikini and went into her bathroom to clean up. I sat up and groaned. During the last three months, protection had never come into play. I hadn't even thought about it before pounding in. It was stupid, it was sloppy, and I hated that I was taking cues from my time with Appius. I needed to get it together. I needed to get tested.

Pam came back out in her bathing suit, every hair back in place, and knelt down next to me. She pressed a stack of condoms into my hand. "Don't worry about it, just remember for next time." She kissed the furrow on my forehead and stood up. "Enjoy the rest of the party."

I heard her soft footsteps moving away on the carpet, but she stopped and called back to me, "Oh, and, Eric?" I looked up at Pam grinning from the doorway. "Welcome home."

She turned and left the room.


End file.
